


Five Times Oliver Queen Tried To Propose To Felicity Smoak (& One Time He Managed To Pull It Off)

by Caedmon



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5 Times, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Insecure Oliver, Marriage Proposal, Microsmut, Swearing, olicity - Freeform, proposal fails, season 4 promo, the teeniest bit of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver decides to ask Felicity to be his wife. Fate does not smile on this decision, but Murphy's Law does.</p><p>A fluffy, silly fic based on the season 4 promo that had all of us squealing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Oliver Queen Tried To Propose To Felicity Smoak (& One Time He Managed To Pull It Off)

**Author's Note:**

> Same as always. 
> 
> I own nothing but the misteaks.  
> Kudos and comments keep the muse alive, y'all. Thank you for them.  
> clintasha-n-olicity.tumblr.com/caedmonfaith.tumblr.com

~~~ i. ~~~

Everything was _perfect._ Oliver had worked on this for weeks, and he’d planned every single detail to the tiniest degree. Nothing was left to chance. 

As soon as they arrived in Baltimore and he could bring himself to rip himself from Felicity’s side, he’d started ring shopping. It had taken much longer than he’d expected because he’d expected to walk in, find a pretty ring, point and pay. But of course it wasn’t that simple and he should have known better, he really should. First, the jewellers tossed the four C’s out at him. Oliver scoffed internally until his bachelor brain saw charts and pictures and scales with letter grades and oh God, what if Felicity knew all of this? What if he accidentally picked out a flawed diamond in the wrong shape? What if he ended up with a murky, discolored diamond? Felicity was perfect, she deserved - _needed_ \- the perfect diamond. 

Eventually it came down to two rings: a cushion or an oval. In the end, he went with the oval. It was the most unusual cut, the most unique, and the most appealing to his eye. It seemed the most fitting for his Felicity. 

On the sly, Oliver found a local chef and paid the master to teach him to make a gourmet meal for her, including something that he could slip a ring into. It turned out that Oliver was more of a natural in the kitchen than he’d ever have suspected, and it took a lot of willpower for him not to brag over this fact, especially when it turned out that Felicity was _not_ the best cook he’d ever encountered. He just smiled and prepared meals when she didn’t seem inclined, and over the course of the first couple of months of their domestic bliss the kitchen became his domain. 

The date for his proposal was easy to pick, although nearly impossible to wait for. He waited for the anniversary of their first date, but that ring...that ring started burning a hole in his pocket the day he walked out of the store with it. 

He practiced the actual proposal in front of the full-length mirror when Felicity wasn’t around. He practiced over and over and over: how he was going to kneel and when, whether he was going to hold one of her hands or two, how he would clean the ring from souffle goop before he put it on her hand, and the myriad things he wanted to say. It took him weeks and weeks to narrow that down, and just when he thought he had it right, he had to start all over because it was wrong, all wrong. It had to be _perfect_ , just like her.

>>\------->

Finally, _finally_. The candles were lit, the dinner was ready. They ate, and she was suitably impressed by the meal he’d made. It had turned out better than he’d expected it to without the chef, Ronald, watching him, and Oliver was sure he’d be proud of himself later when he was able to think about it. Later. Right now, he was too nervous. 

He sat with his hands clenched under the table, bouncing his knees, his lips quirked up at the corners and finding himself unable to put them in a straight line. She was just so damn beautiful, and he was going to ask her to marry him in just a few minutes. Just a few minutes. As soon as he worked up the nerve. Dear God, he was scared. And thrilled.

“Oliver?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on a little smile. “You alright?”

He beamed at her. “I’m great!”

“You seem...tense.”

“No! I’m fine, just fine!”

Felicity narrowed her eyes further and curled her nose at him as if she didn’t believe one word he was saying. “Okay…” 

Oliver just smiled brighter. “How was everything?”

“Great! What’s the occasion?”

Oliver just shrugged, still smiling. “Just wanted to do something special, is all. Can’t I flirt with my girlfriend?”

She looked suspicious. “You’re acting super weird, Oliver.”

He knew it. He totally knew he was, but oh God, he couldn’t help himself. He had to do something, quick, before she started checking his temperature or something.

“I almost forgot! I made dessert. Be back in a second, you just stay right there.”

Felicity sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Okay…”

Oliver ran around the table and kissed her, and hoped it would be the last kiss he ever gave her as her boyfriend.

>>\------->

The souffles were perfect. _Perfect_. Except for acting weird, he was nailing this whole night. All the planning was working out exactly as he’d envisioned, and he was about to be her fiance. 

_Oh please, oh please let her say yes._

Oliver took the ring out of his pocket, opened the box and pulled it out gently. He resisted the urge to give it a kiss for luck, afraid of marring the shine on the stone. Gently, so gently, he slid the platinum loop that would slide onto her finger in the merangue, leaving the stone to twinkle at her. 

_Oh please, oh please let her say yes._

“It’s go time.”

Oliver stood up, grabbed both handles of the tray, and turned to walk into the dining room.

Felicity wasn’t sitting at the table where he’d left her, and his smile faded just a touch. He opened his mouth to call for her, raising his eyes just a little, and spotted her. The smile came back. She’d gone to the bathroom or something, but there she was. It was time. He was going to propose.

“Oliver,” she said hesitantly, “you have guests.”

The smile faltered, then his sister and ex-girlfriend walked into the room and it died completely. 

Oliver had never understood the term ‘his heart sank’ until that very moment.

~~~ ii. ~~~

Felicity Smoak loved Halloween. She loved the playfulness of it, she loved pretending to be someone else. And since taking up with the Queen family, she had a perfect excuse to waste money and time on Halloween every year. 

This year, praise be, she had a boyfriend that she could talk into wearing a couple’s costume with her. Oliver was initially resistant to the idea, giving her withering looks anytime she threw out a ridiculous idea for them. 

“C’mon, Oliver, let’s be bacon and eggs!”

“No,” he had scowled, and she’d giggled.

“How about salt and pepper?”

“The condiments or the rappers?”

“Do you prefer one or the other?”

“You’re right. No.”

Felicity burst into delighted laughter that time and crawled into his lap. He’d slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled into her neck. Oliver had been in a mood since they’d come back to Star City (he was salty about the whole ‘Star City’ thing, too, and she tried not to say it out loud if she could help it). In their downtime, she tried to keep him happy and laughing, but his funk seemed to keep seeping in. 

She kissed his hair and put her cheek on his head. “Are you opposed to all couples' costumes, or just stupid ones.”

“I’ll do anything you want me to, sweetheart. I just don’t want to look stupid,” he said petulantly.

“So a cool costume is fine. Just nothing silly.”

“Yes.” He sounded less grumpy, and Felicity was glad.

“How about...alright, how about a knight and princess?”

Oliver pulled back and looked at her. “You think?”

“Sure. Every girl wants to be princess.” 

He pulled her down for a kiss. “You’re no princess, Felicity Smoak. You’re a queen.”

>>\------->

Thea had gone all out to decorate the club for this party, hiring a decorator to make it spooky and classy all at once. She’d hired an awesome DJ and all of the drinks were Halloween-themed for one night only. The girls, predictably, were dressed in ‘sexy’ versions of everything under the sun. Sexy vampires. Sexy nurses. Sexy cheerleaders. Sexy minions, for fuck’s sake. He rolled his eyes. 

Laurel had fallen prey to the sexy craze, going with a sexy Alice in Wonderland ensemble that wasn’t too over the top. When she came up to Oliver at the bar, he told her she looked nice perfunctorily. She preened and he wished immediately that he hadn’t said anything.

“What are you supposed to be?” she asked. 

“A knight,” he answered. “Felicity is my princess.”

“Ah,” she answered. “You guys alright, then?”

“We’re great!” he answered, beaming before taking a long draft of his beer.

“Good!” She smiled at him, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Oh, gotta go! There’s my date!” Laurel pointed to someone in the crowd, but was gone into the crush of people before he could figure out who she was talking about. 

Apparently, word had not gotten around Star City sufficiently that Oliver Queen was happily coupled up, and, on a semi-related note, apparently Felicity had gotten lost. While Oliver stood at the bar waiting for his girlfriend to return so that he could take her downstairs to the foundry and ask her in the place that they’d spent so much time together to be his wife, he was approached by no less than six women who hit on him. Relentlessly. Shamelessly. Had he really thought this was attractive at one point in his life? 

He demurred each time, trying to be polite, telling each one that he had a girlfriend whom he was very happy with. His past came back to bite him then, because none of the women seemed to think that Oliver Queen having a girlfriend mattered in the least, and it took him nearly stiff-arming each of them before they took the hint. 

Finally Felicity found him, and oh thank heavens. He bent down and kissed her when she did, bending her backwards over his arm a little in his ardor, a wild kiss that served the dual purpose of letting her know how much he missed her and showing anyone nearby know how much he loved her. He hoped.

“C’mon,” he said. “I want to talk to you. Somewhere quieter.” 

Oliver grabbed her hand and heard her giggle behind him, following along as he cut his way towards the door to the foundry. He had to do this _now._ He had the nerve and motivation to do it _right now._ If he didn’t ask her before he lost his nerve, he’d never do it. He had to get it right, had to do it. It’s gotta be now. 

Oliver pressed the sequence on the keypad to unlock the door to the foundry, and it gave him the red light. “Doesn’t want to unlock,” he muttered. Felicity’s hands circled his waist and he ground his teeth. _Behave, Oliver._ He pressed the numbers into the keypad again and got another beep and red light, indicating failure. Felicity’s hand drifted lower, below his waistband and his body responded. It always did, the traitor. _No...not right now…c’mon, help me out._ He spoke the last out loud. 

“Mmm...I’m trying to…” Felicity answered, then nibbled his neck, licking the spot she’d just irritated when she palmed him and he prayed desperately she didn’t feel the ringbox in his pocket. 

“Felicity…” he growled. 

“What?” she said innocently. “I thought you wanted to go somewhere...private?”

Oliver growled again, feral and deep, then pulled her around him, pushing her against the door. He ground into her, letting her feel what she'd just gotten started, nipping and sucking at her neck, pulling at her skirt where it covered her ass, tugging it up. A small voice in the back of his head told him he was getting off track, he needed to go downstairs before he lost his nerve, he needed to propose to her _now, right now,_ but that voice in his head was drowned out by a moan in his ear...the ear that Felicity was currently sucking on. 

A loud, shrill bell rang directly overhead just before cold water sprayed down on them, driving them apart, soaking them. 

“God _dammit_!” Oliver yelled, and Felicity stood with her hands vaguely covering her head, her mouth wide open. “You okay?” he asked her, wiping her wet, ruined hair out of her face. 

“I’m fine,” she smiled. “Just...kinda ruins the mood, doesn’t it?”

Oliver sighed and looked up at the sprinklers, hearing the screams of the crowd in the distance, retreating to the parking lot. “Yep,” he said. “Kinda screws my plans for the night.”

~~~ iii ~~~

Thea had turned out to be quite the hostess, and decided to host Christmas dinner at her own home. Much to his chagrin, she’d invited her father, and it galled Oliver to even _think_ that word but he made a nice showing in the interests of peace. Malcolm Merlyn had saved everyone in the room’s life, he knew it, and he owed the man his gratitude for that, he supposed. Merlyn was as much trouble as he was help, though, and Oliver knew that as well. 

Oliver was wary, but it was still Christmas. 

And he was going to try again. 

Thea had had the meal catered despite Oliver’s offer to prepare at least some of the food. He was glad later, because it meant that he got to sit around and shoot the breeze with his friends, the people that he considered family, with his arm around the woman that he intended to make his fiance that very night. Even Malcolm was on his best behavior, laughing and telling jokes with the rest of them beside the amazing, huge Christmas tree. 

Dinner was sumptuous, with several courses including soup and dessert, and they were all stuffed by the end, reclining in their chairs. Oliver looked around the table at these people he considered family. He and Diggle had repaired the damage to their relationship, so his dearest friend and Lyla sat just across from him. Felicity sat just to his left, and he held her hand, stroking her thumb. Roy, Thea, Malcolm and Laurel all sat around the table as well, sipping their wine and laughing at stories they told with each other. The world outside waited: Damien Dahrk still loomed in the city, big and bad. But tonight...tonight they had each other, and Oliver had a question to ask his girlfriend. 

She really was beautiful. He looked over at her now, as she watched Lyla and Diggle tell some story of their ARGUS days. She smiled and nodded appropriately and her face glowed. Light seemed to attach to her, making her radiate all the time and he had no idea what John was saying right now, but when she laughed, he laughed as well. The musical joy that came out of her mouth was such a delight, he had to make some sound of celebration as well. 

Oliver turned back to the Diggles and their story; he wasn’t at all interested in what they were saying, but he was politely waiting for them to finish. He had to ask Felicity, tonight, because he felt certain that if he didn’t do it soon, he’d explode with love for this woman. And where and when would be more appropriate than here and now, in front of all of their friends during a time of celebration?

Lyla finished her story with a ripple of laughter from her audience and Oliver let go of Felicity’s hand, reaching for his butter knife. Just as he got his hand on it, his smile still bright and bold on the lower half of his face, he heard the delicate ding of metal on glass and his eyes jerked up to see Diggle standing up across from him, clicking his knife to his wine glass. Oliver laid his knife down, disappointed and apprehensive.

“Guys, we’ve had something we wanted to tell you for a little while now, but we wanted to wait until you were all together…” John began.

“Ohmigosh you’re pregnant,” Felicity blurted.

Diggle looked down at Felicity, one part exasperation, two parts affection, smiling. “Yes, we are.” Every woman at the table, save Lyla, squealed and clapped. “We’re due in early June.”

The women jumped up and rushed around the table to hug Lyla and touch the slight swell of her belly, and the men stood to shake John’s hand. Oliver pasted a smile on and shook his hand as well, hoping that nobody saw the disappointment behind his eyes. He couldn't take this night from his best friend. The ringbox felt incredibly heavy in his jacket pocket.

~~~ iv ~~~

Starling City had always put on a magnificent fireworks display, and there was something to prove this year, inaugural year as Star City, it was bound to be even better than usual. 

Oliver had scouted a spot on the shore of the bay earlier in the week, finding a place that was sheltered but would have a decent view. He wanted to be hidden from the rest of the world, though: Damien Dahrk was looming large and in charge, he was ever aware of that, and there was safety in numbers. So, to that end, he’d invited along Thea, Diggle and Lyla. 

They got to the spot and laid out the blankets. Oliver and Diggle told the ladies to get comfortable, then pulled out the snacks and wine to pass around and pour (Felicity had called this a ‘night picnic’ and he’d been delighted, but really, wasn’t everything she did delightful?)

“Ollie, you’re quiet tonight,” Thea remarked.

Oliver settled back down next to Felicity, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t have anything to say just yet.”

Felicity cocked an eye at him. “You anticipate talking later?”

He swallowed his sip of wine. “Maybe.”

Lyla laughed. “Gonna do a running commentary on the fireworks?

“Ugh,” Thea groaned. “He was always interrupting movies and stuff when we were kids. ‘Hey, Speedy,’” she mimicked him, “‘You know Bert and Ernie are just puppets, right? Hey, Speedy, school buses aren’t magic, that’s all pretend.’” She looked at a scowling Oliver and grinned as she sat beside him. “You were a mean big brother sometimes, but you were my hero, anyway.” She kissed his cheek. “Still are.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“I can see Oliver doing that,” Diggle said. 

“What?" he sputtered indignantly. "You never knew me then.”

“You’ve gotten into the Ollie character before. I can see that happening.”

Lyla, the youngest of three kids in her own family, piped up. “Big brothers are kind of universally jerks, Oliver. It’s just a fact of life.”

Oliver looked around the small group, the people in the world he was closest to, and branded all of them traitors. All except…

“Don’t look at me,” Felicity said, swallowing a sip of wine. “I’m an only child, and fiercely loyal to my man.” She looped her arm with his and he looked back at the other three smugly.

The moment was probably blown, though. How was he supposed to propose to Felicity under the stars and fireworks when they’d spent the time leading up to it discussing how obnoxious he had always been? Normally Oliver was an incredibly secure guy, but he was a nervous wreck right now, and that hadn't helped.

Nah. He was being ridiculous. Watch fireworks, snuggle Felicity. Get a little time between himself and the embarrassing story, then propose when the fireworks are most of the way done. 

Pinch the hell out of his baby sister if she brings it up again. 

The first burst of color lit up the sky, and Oliver pulled her close. Felicity cooed appropriately at the sparkling displays of color, until Oliver’s wineglass shattered in his hand. 

“ _GET DOWN!_ ”

He shoved Felicity to the ground, under his body, and pulled his weapon, looking for the area that the shot had come from. Lyla, Speedy and Diggle had all pulled their guns as well and were firing into the night at the area the shot had come from. Time crawled until the shootout was over.

Oliver listened to make sure the shots were finished, nothing coming from either side, then the two armed members of Team Arrow formed a barrier around the unarmed Felicity and pregnant Lyla, and they left the vicinity. 

Oliver tried really hard to focus on the fact that they'd been attacked and were all safe, and to not to be disappointed that yet another plan had gone completely to hell.

~~~ v ~~~

His fingers alternated between tracing patterns and dragging down her back as she rode him, his head craned back so that he could still kiss her. Oliver could never get enough of the taste of her, and he whimpered pitifully when she pulled her mouth away to bite her lip and focus on the rotation of her hips on him. 

Felicity clutched at his shoulders, throwing her head backwards and letting her hair hit his knees. Oliver surrendered to the feeling, letting his head lean forward to rest on her undulating chest for a moment while he ground himself upwards into her and absorbed all of the sensations she was providing him. “Jesus…” he moaned.

“Mmm…” she chuckled. “Love it when you get all spiritual on me.”

He flipped her then and she squealed. Oliver caught the sound in his mouth and made sure she wasn’t able to say anything else coherent until they were both spent.

>>\------->

Oliver wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been since they’d both exploded into each other. It could have been seconds. Could have been minutes. Hell, it could have been hours for all he knew. His brain was still buzzing, and Felicity’s fingers were dancing up and down his back. She made sleepy, contented sounds that - if he thought he could get away with it alive - he’d record and set as his ringtone. 

Cognizance returned to him slowly, the fog in his brain clearing, and he realized he was most likely crushing her. “Shit, Felicity, I’m sorry.” He slid his body a couple of inches to the left, removing most of his weight but leaving his leg and arm tossed across her, arranging himself so that he could pull her close and kiss her shoulder, neck and ear leisurely. 

“Love you,” he crooned.

“Love you, too,” she sighed.

“I wish we hadn’t waited to do this.” 

“Mmm.” It was an agreeable noise. He was pleased with it.

“But I don’t have to let you go now.” He wiggled himself and her a little bit, settling themselves against each other a little more cozily. “Think I’ll keep you, if you’re okay with it.”

Felicity gave a breathy chuckle and stretched against him, her damp body rubbing against his and creating a delicious friction that just may get something started again if she didn’t watch it.

“Oliver Queen, I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to. But for now,” she kissed his nose, “I have to clean up and get decent again.”

“Aw, do you have to?” He pretended to pout and kissed her shoulder.

She grinned at him. “Yes, but I’ll be back in a minute. And then you can keep me, alright?”

Felicity scooted out of the bed and dashed for the bathroom, and it occurred to him when he was no longer staring at her naked body what she’d just said.

Oh. _Oh._

_Now. Now was the time._

Oliver jumped up and threw on his underwear and pajama pants, grabbing a shirt from the drawer and rooting around for the ring box he kept hidden at the very bottom. He heard the water cut off in the bathroom and dove back into the bed, shoving the ring box under the pillow.

_Now. Now is the time. Let’s do it now._

Felicity came back out to the bedroom, absolutely adorable in her flannel pajama pants and t-shirt that sported binary code he assumed had some kind of joke or something on it. Oliver had no clue, but it must mean something to her. 

She crawled back into the bed with him, pulling off her glasses and reaching for the light.

“No, leave it on for a while.” 

Felicity turned to look at him oddly. “Really? Are you going to read or something?”

“No, I just thought we could...maybe...talk.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Talk? As in....talk?”

Oliver chuckled and wrapped an arm around her as she lay down, settling into his side. He felt the box press into his shoulder when he shifted to accommodate her weight. “Nah. I just wanted to expound on the whole ‘keeping you’ thing.”

He heard her smile before she turned her face up to him and confirmed it. “Oh, I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She started walking her fingers up his chest. “I think the idea of keeping you around forever is quite a nice idea.”

_Yep. Now is definitely the time._

Oliver reached his unoccupied arm around, over his head, grabbing blindly for the box hidden under the pillow.

Felicity’s phone made a sound like a Tardis landing, and she reached for it, leaning out of his arms. 

“Felicity, ignore it. We’re going to bed.”

She looked at the phone and sighed. “I can’t. It’s my mom.”

“Screen it to voicemail.” His voice sounded pleading to his own ears, and he hoped that didn’t translate out loud.

“I can’t, Oliver. It’s my _mom_.”

“Felicity, please, just this once-”

“Hello?”

Oliver’s head fell back and hit the pillow, and once again the ring box pressed into his shoulder, but this time it was a nagging reminder of his failure to _get this done_. It was okay, though. As soon as she got off the phone they could pick up where they left off, and he’d finally-

“What do you mean you’re outside?”

“ _What do you mean she’s outside?_ ”

Felicity shushed him with a finger without looking at him and nodded at the phone, her mouth open, poised to speak. “Oh...but...Mom...but I’m….okay, Mom but….” she sighed heavily. “Alright, Mom. We’ll be right down.”

Felicity pressed the end button and rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses. Oliver took a deep breath and waited for the death knell on his evening.

“Mom is downstairs, the cab just dropped her off. She and Howard broke up, and she wanted to get out of town. It didn’t occur to her to call first.”

“She’s staying here?”

“You want to put her up in a hotel?" Felicity snapped. "My mom?”

“Of course not,” Oliver said quickly, although that was _exactly_ what he wanted to do. "You know I love your mom. _You_ love your mom. It won’t be bad. It’s just...bad timing, is all."

Felicity growled about how she wish her mom had just _called_ and this was becoming a habit and threw the bedspread off of her legs with more force than was necessary, hitting Oliver in the hip when she did. It was a sign of her own frustration that she didn’t apologize.

“I’ll be right back,” she bit out. “I’m going to get _my mother_ , our _surprise houseguest._ ”

Felicity stormed out and he waited until he heard the front door slam before he reached under the pillow, grabbed the ring box and let loose with every curse word he could think of or make up. 

~~~ +1 ~~~

They’d decided not to go anywhere for Valentine’s day. Everywhere was always so crowded and, although they certainly had the pull around this town to get a table anywhere they wanted, it would just be more pleasant to stay in and hang around the Arrow cave. Maybe give it a christening, if they played their cards right. Besides, Diggle and Lyla had Sara and a growing baby bump, Thea and Laurel both had plans... they’d have the place all to themselves. 

And Oliver was determined - _absolutely determined_ \- to make Felicity Smoak his fiancee tonight. 

They ordered Chinese food and settled in in the lounge area, putting on a romantic comedy - something mindless and fun that would let them make out with terrible garlic breath once they finished eating without feeling like they were missing anything. 

Of course, Oliver had other plans for a little later, but he was on board with the whole making-out-during-the-movie-after-they-ate thing. Felicity didn’t know that he had souffles and champagne ready to go for after the movie went off but, you know, it would keep for an hour or so. 

The movie was enjoyable, although he had no clue what happened after the first fifteen minutes; Felicity had draped her legs across his lap and that had been that. When the end credits rolled and they came up for air, Oliver announced loudly and with much false acting, “Oh, hey! I forgot! I made dessert and picked up some champagne! I’ll be right back!”

Giving Felicity (who was still adjusting her clothing) a wink, he headed off towards the kitchen to make the final preparations.

It was odd, Oliver thought. He _wasn’t nervous_ this time. Maybe it was because they’d been a couple for close to a year now, maybe it was because he’d tried and failed so many times. He screwed up his face at that last thought. _But this time_ , he thought as he put the ring in just so, so the sparkly diamond was poking out of the meringue to catch the light, just as he had before… _This time, everything was going to be perfect._

He fetched the two flutes he’d stashed earlier, pulled the chilled champagne from the fridge and put it all on the tray. _So what if nothing else had worked before? So what if Valentine’s day was the cheesiest day to propose? So what if this wasn’t how he’d planned it? They could laugh about it all later_. He lifted the tray and started towards the lounge area.

_Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night he’s going to actually get to propose…_

Oliver heard laughing voices, and the door swung open on his foot when he pushed.

“Goddammit,” he said out loud.

“Oliver!” Thea said, smiling. “Laurel and I are just _thrilled_ to see you, too.”

“Get the hell out.”

Laurel scoffed. “Rude.”

“Go. I mean it. Get out.”

Felicity looked between Oliver and the disbelieving women. “Oliver...they were just telling me that they had had bad dates tonight and came here because…”

“I don’t care. That doesn’t mean they get to ruin ours. Out. Both of you. _Go. NOW_.”

Thea crossed her arms and cocked on one hip. “I don’t care what’s crawled up your _ass_ tonight, either, Ollie, but you’re not going to talk to Laurel or I like that. You can fuck right off. We’re staying.” 

“Goddammit!” Oliver sat the tray down and heard at least one of the champagne flutes fall to the floor and shatter. He didn’t care, couldn’t care, was way, way past the point of caring. “You guys have a great evening. I’m gone.” He stormed off.

>>\------->

Felicity had known that he’d be one of two places. When she didn’t find Oliver on the roof, she grabbed the little bag she’d packed and set off towards Verdant. Sure enough, she found him there, sitting in the old Foundry, in the semidarkness of the wreckage of their old headquarters. 

Her heels clicked on the concrete of the floor and she knew he heard her although he made no motion to indicate so. She didn’t bother calling out his name to let him know that it was her or she was there, she knew he’d know it was her. There was no question that it would be anyone else. 

Felicity crossed to one of the tables and pulled the bag off of her shoulder, laying it gently on the table, then pulled off her coat and laid it beside the bag, never taking her eyes off of Oliver. He hadn’t moved, didn’t seem inclined to move. She walked to where he was sitting on a stool in front of a now-deserted workbench and turned around, putting her hands on the bench and using them to cushion her bottom. It was a good idea, she thought, because her impulse to reach out and grab him, touch him somehow was nearly overwhelming. There’d be time for that later, she knew, but just now that wasn’t what he needed. He was sulking, and he needed to be talked down.

He didn’t look at her, he just stared at something below him, between his knees. Maybe his thumbs, maybe something on the ground. She didn't know and it didn't matter. Felicity watched him aim for broody and land on pouty for a minute, then got bored with it. Felicity didn’t tolerate sulking Oliver well. Brooding is one thing, but sulking - no.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he grunted, still not looking up.

“You kind of made a scene back there.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Your sister’s pretty pissed.”

“So am I.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

Oliver still hadn’t looked up. She pursed her lips and nodded a little. So this was a proper sulk then. Alrighty. No sweat.

“It’s Valentine’s day.”

“I’m aware, Felicity. Believe me, I’m very aware.”

“I had a wonderful time tonight, though, Oliver. We had a lovely date.”

“Didn’t get to finish it, though.”

 _There we go._ There’s the pouty tone that led to the opening she needed. She screwed up her mouth against a smile and thought quickly about her next move. Oliver was a chess game sometimes, and tonight was one of those times. She decided on a plan of attack and made her move.

“You left something behind, you know.”

Oliver looked up at her, and there was something besides a glower, at last. Not what she was going for, but right now it was better than the pouting thing. “I know, Felicity, and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have ditched you like that. I’m really, really -”

She beamed at him. “Not me, you goofball.” Felicity pushed off from the table and walked to the bag she’d brought, unzipping it and pulling out the champagne and two paper cups. “You forgot the champagne. Seems a shame to waste it.”

Oliver looked at her, nonplussed. “The champagne,” he said, dazed. “Right.”

Felicity’s eyes were twinkling. “Did you have any particular reason for celebrating tonight? Or was it just because it was Valentine’s day?”

“I…I just…”

Felicity could see the wheels spinning in his mind and as much as it was entertaining, she let him off the hook. “Because, you see,” she turned back to the bag. “You also left these.” Felicity pulled out two small pastry boxes and set them in front of Oliver. He looked down at them then back up at her, then back down at the boxes.

He pointed at one and asked her. “Are those...?”

“The dessert you made?” she asked, grinning and biting her lip. “Yes. One in each box.”

“Felicity…”

“So, Oliver," she cut him off. "I wanted to ask you again...did you have something that you intended to celebrate tonight? Because those souffles look really good, and I’m dying to dig into mine. You know, if you’ve designated one especially for me, whichever one it might be. Maybe you marked it somehow with something.”

He grabbed her by the waist then and yanked her to him, kissing her as thoroughly and deeply as he ever had. His hand settled to her hip and pulled her even closer, impossibly closer as her mouth opened to his without question, her arms circling his neck. Her body arched to his well-loved one and she smiled against his mouth in the millionth of a second he gave her to take a breath. Felicity had thought that she knew this man, had been kissed by him in every way possible, but this was new. This was a desperate, pleading love, and the warmth from it spread all over her in slow, golden tendrils, wrapping around all of her senses and leaving her pleasantly intoxicated.

“Marry me, Felicity,” he murmured against her lips, moving to her cheek, kissing her gently there before he trailed his lips down to her neck. “I had the best proposal planned for you. It was beautiful and worthy of you, the best I could do but I’m afraid to wait another second. Please, just say you’ll marry me and put me out of my misery.”

Felicity nodded, her chin catching his cheek where he’d been applying soft, wet kisses to her neck. He raised up immediately to grab her shoulders and look into her eyes. “Was - was that a yes? Did you say yes?”

Felicity’s smile was like the sun. “Yes.”

Oliver gave a shout of laughter and scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and spinning her around in a haze of sheer, pure joy. Felicity threw her legs out as he spun her, surrendering to the bliss of the moment.

_*thud,thud*_  
_*splat,splat*_

Oliver stopped spinning her at once and they both looked down to see open boxes with ruined souffles splattered all over the floor, a diamond ring barely visible in the messy cream.

“You have _got_ to be shitting me,” Oliver groaned. "Did I really manage to do it _again_?"

“Oliver. Hey. That doesn’t matter.” Felicity grabbed his face, pulling it back to hers. “We’re getting married. Yeah?”

“Damn right we are.” 

And Oliver Queen kissed his fiancee for the very first time.


End file.
